I'll be back my diamond
by AimeeMagnus1850
Summary: I'll be back my diamond Translated by Elysian


Hunger Games isn't mine :)

Translated by Elysian

**I Will Return, My Diamond**

Haymitch reads and rereads the paper in his hands, worn and tattered from being folded and unfolded. The smell of perfume lingers on the paper, a fruity perfume that is all the rage in the Capital, inviting you to sink your teeth into the person wearing it. Haymitch caresses the words that are scrawled on the paper in a delicate and elegant handwriting. How he wishes he could be by her side. He misses her terribly and can't wait for them to be together again. Their situation is simply horrible. The only time he ever sees his soul mate is always the same day he sends two kids to their death in the Games. It makes him sick but at the same time, he can't help feeling painfully happy. Every year, the combination of such cruel emotions—love and helplessness—drives him to drink even more than normal. Every year he tries to stay sober for the Reaping and every year, he fails. He makes this effort not for the Capitol spectators or even for the new tributes of District 12, but for the one person who counts more than any other, the one person who makes his heart skip a beat. He makes this effort for his Effie.

He knows every word of her letter by heart. He recites them like a prayer when he is feeling down. These words mean the world to him. They are proof that someone loves him, even from hundreds of miles away.

This is one of those moments. What if she'd lied? It's a month and a half since he's received her letter, and Effie has still not arrived in District 12. As always, he recites her letter to himself again and again.

"**Haymitch, you've thrown my world out of sync. You're the child who has kicked my anthill. Every moment of my life was planned out, but you've changed everything. I can tell you now that I love you. I will be with you soon, in the time it takes for the flowers in my room to wilt, and for your longing to grow to where my image haunts you like a ghost. I will rip up my schedule, for you've taught me to love the unexpected.**

**I am yours forever.**

**Until then, my love,**

**I love you."**

No, she couldn't have lied to him. Sooner or later, Effie would come. He would like her to come sooner rather than later, but all that matters is that she arrives at all.

Despite all his efforts to remain sober, the next day is particularly hard for those who are single, especially those in love. It is February 14th, Valentine's Day: a happy day for some, but depressing for others. Haymitch carefully places the letter into the inside pocket of his jacket close to his heart, and starts to drink. He drinks as though it is his last night on Earth and the sun will not rise the next morning. It is late by the time he falls asleep, with a bottle in one hand and his knife in the other.

"If Effie saw me like this, she'd run away as fast as she could in her heels," he thinks before succumbing to his exhaustion.

By the time Haymitch awakes, it is already two o'clock. His night was horrible. All he wants is his version of breakfast—another bottle to drain to the last drop. He decides in a surge of inspiration to spend the whole damned day drunk, so that he won't remember a thing. He feels around for a bottle, but the ones he finds are all empty. He turns his house upside down in his search, but can't find a single drop of alcohol. He will have to buy more at the Hub. What an ordeal, today of all days! But if that is what it takes to forget, Haymitch is willing to do anything. He shoves his feet into his shoes and pulls on his coat before walking out the door. The afternoon sky is gray and gloomy. A dirty layer of snow covers District 12. Haymitch sets off towards the Hub at a fast pace, wanting to spend as little time as possible outside of his house in the cold.

He sees her as soon as he reaches the main square. Even a blind man can't fail to notice her, with her fuchsia-pink hair and matching trench coat falling to her ankles, nearly touching her sequined pink stilettos. Haymitch's thirst for alcohol evaporates instantly. He straightens his hair and clothes. He should have bathed before leaving his house; he stinks to high heaven. She approaches him, smiling from ear to ear. He doesn't dare move a muscle.

"Hello," she greets him. "I promised you I'd return." Her voice is soft—not her stage voice, but her real voice that so few people have the joy of hearing. Haymitch is touched that she never wears her mask around him.

"I never doubted you." He lies, whispering in her ear, "I'm happy you're here. I've missed you."

"And I've missed you, too." She looks him directly in the eyes.

The silence is deafening. They stand in the middle of the main square and just look at each other, miners milling around on their way to and from the mine. Passersby eye them oddly, curious to see an old tribute in such close contact to the woman who selects the children to be sacrificed in the Games. Effie and Haymitch pay them no mind. For them, it is enough that they are together.

Haymitch's gaze fixates on her lips, longing to bite them as you would an apple. He is clueless as to what he should do—or even what he _shouldn't_ do. He wants the best for Effie and nothing else.

Effie drowns in the eyes of District 12's mentor. No one in the Capitol has such eyes, so gray that one can see the entire universe in their depths. Without even realizing it, she takes his hand, the hand of her own diamond in the rough. At last, she is with him. She is home. She loves Haymitch more than anything, even more than fashion. Her reputation, gossip, her schedules and parties—they are all nothing next to Haymitch. She loves him with every fiber of her being. She would do anything for him. Anything.

Haymitch notices Effie shivering from the cold, her lips trembling. He decides to take her to his house. They collect her two bulging suitcases from the justice building and follow the snowy lane to Victors' Village.

While they walk, they talk about everything and nothing. Effie laughs at his attempts to make her laugh, and Haymitch continues to crack jokes just for the joy of hearing her beloved laugh. Her laugh warms his cold heart, hardened by the difficulties of life.

Effie waits in the entryway for several long minutes while Haymitch tidies his house from top to bottom, even trying his hand at preparing the food that he'd purchased from the Hub. Touched, Effie takes his face into her hands and places a kiss onto his lips—a chaste kiss that quickly becomes more passionate. Breathless, they break apart, eyes locked on each other.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my diamond." Effie breathes.

"I love you, angel."

The next morning, Effie is up before the sun. Neither she nor Haymitch slept much the night before, but obligations await her in the Capitol and she cannot stay. With a heavy heart, she searches for her clothes, which are scattered around Haymitch's bedroom floor. She dresses in silence, trying not to wake him. She wishes she didn't have to leave like this, but she can't bear seeing his disappointment; it would be too hard for both of them. Tenderly, she kisses his sleeping lips before slipping out of the room. She places a letter on the kitchen table and leaves her suitcases in the spare room-the urgent business awaiting her in the Capitol is her resignation. She is moving to District 12, but Haymitch doesn't know yet. Her letter is simple:

"**I will return, my diamond."**

The End


End file.
